Drag Me To Hell
by newbluemoon
Summary: It's Halloween and Bruce wakes up in an uncomfortable situation. Not porn. Slash- BxJ established relationship. Written for BatmanJoker Halloween Anon. Unbeta'd quick fic.


Author's notes: Okay so this was written insanely quickly (we're talking like 45 mins tops) for the BatmanJoker LJ Halloween Anon challenge (my final entry for it). It's un-beta'd, rushed and riddled with mistakes but oh well. Also it's a crack!fic so expect OOCness. I repeat do not take this fic seriously. Warnings: None really, short!fic, slash, established relationship, fluffy crack, crotch grabbage etc.

-Insert clever disclaimer here-

***

Bruce Wayne, the billionaire, playboy entrepreneur/ruthless vigilante, was pissed _off_. He had opened his heavy, stinging eyes and blinked, finding himself in a strange situation. He was lying in a small bed in a dark, dingy bedroom that look like it either belonged to a frat boy or a hooker. Sitting up slightly he felt his head spin and his stomach churn; the result of a slight concussion. The vigilante rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the pounding thump his brain had adopted; mirroring the booming noise of a nearby club. Moving his hand up to the back of his head, he winced at the stinging sensation as it brushed over a large lump which had formed, buried in chocolate locks. Bruce's eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he scanned the poorly lit room, finding no signs of life. His mind began to work quickly as he formulated an escape plan. He could see two possible exists, assuming they weren't booby trapped, but where the hell was he anyway? Scrunching up his eyes, he searched his mind for some kind of explanation as to his whereabouts. He could recall sitting in his leather chair at Wayne Enterprises, pretending to be doing work when he'd heard a cacophonous hammering on the door. Normally he would have waited for the buzz from his secretary before answering, but after 30 seconds of continuous banging, he had assumed his secretary wasn't there and made his way over to the door, worrying what could be so important. After opening it, the world sank into an inky blackness.

And he'd woken up here. In this filthy hell hole. Alone. He hadn't even seen his assailant and this fact caused a heated, frustrated rage to bubble within him. At least if he knew who had hit him, he could assess the danger of the situation fairly. Pushing himself up further, he heard a loud squeaking creak. His head whipped around to locate the source of the sound. Spinning around, he squinted in the darkness.

"Who's there", he shouted out feebly. '_Niiice,Bruce'_ he thought mockingly,'_Why don't you just trip up in the woods while you're at it? Go for the cheesy horror movie hat trick?'. _Having momentarily finished scolding himself, he twisted around. The noise crackled through the silent air once more. A cold shiver racked it's way through Bruce. The sound was coming from under the dirty covers. Gulping audibly, he moved his hand to grip the edge of the previously cream quilt and yanked it back. Hard. He was expecting the worst, but what he was not expecting was...

"Oh my _god"_he cried out in disbelief. Under the mangy covers, the disturbing sight wasn't going away when he blinked. It stayed there, deyfing any belief that this was a nightmate. The horrific scene was mocking his eyeballs. Taunting his body. His mouth was wide, showing blatant disgust. Someone had dressed him head to toe in a tiny, red latex sluttish (apparently noisey) devil's outfit, complete with a sparkly clip on tail and lacy stockings. Even through the darkness he could see the tight material left little to the imagination- clinging to every contour and bone of his muscled form. Bruce felt his cheeks adopt a shade to mirror his... _ensemble _and pulled the covers back up, shielding the hideous display from his view. Bringing his hands back up to his head, he moved them towards the front of his skull as he attempted to locate what he knew would be there. Two red horns attached to a red headband, which no doubt was contributing to his throbbing headache. Snarling, he ripped off the head decoration and lobbed it across the room. There was only one person diabolical enough to put him in such a position and he was going to kick his ass once he had gotten out of there. He absolutely _hated _Halloween.

Wrapping the quilt around him, so as to envelop his embarrassment, he pushed himself up and tentatively made his way towards the door. Picking up a pillow on his way, he threw the object at the portal, testing for booby traps and turned away, almost as if he expected an explosion to follow. When nothing happened, he sheepishly moved his hand and wrapped it around the dust-covered brass handle and twisted. Surprisingly, it opened without a struggle and he pushed it wide open. Glaring into the black, he slowly moved forward into a small room, lit only by an eerie orange glow coming from a few scattered candles. With the extra lighting, he could see the room appeared to be nothing more than a simple living room; consisting of an olive sofa, a television, bookshelf and nothing else, except for a large ficus in the corner.

At a snail's pace, he moved so he was standing fully in the living room and his eyes flickered towards the apartment door. After scanning the area and finding it empty, he made a decision to bolt for the door. Gripping the handle in his hand, he attempted to yank it open, only for the ancient thing to come off in his straining fingers. Groaning, he mentally weighed up the possibility of knocking the door down with his brute force when he heard a shuffle come from, behind him. Whirling around he felt his heartbeat quicken. He had trained for years to master his fears, learning all kinds of meditation and relaxation techniques only to have every single last one of them falter now. But he knew what was out there in the shadowed room. He knew what lurked in the corners and what was waiting to pounce and that was what put him on edge. Anything else would be relatively easy to combat. Anything except _him._

Nothing was moving in the apartment. All was still and he just _knew_ he was being fucked with. Growling, he went to turn back to the door, when he heard an elaborate noise echo through the tense silence.

"_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO _BRUUUUUUUCEEEEEEYYYYYY!!" The sound was over exaggerated and high pitched, laced with feigned spookiness as it attempted to illicit a chilling response in the latex clad Bat. Through the flickering light, Bruce could make out a looming white figure peak out from behind the ficus. Flowing linen arms flapped slowly up and down as the cloth covered man made his way towards the incredulous vigilante.

"I'm a ghoooooooooosttt!" howled the person shrouded in a white bed sheet as it lumbered across the room. Bruce growled deep in his chest. He was not in the mood for the clown's shenanigans tonight. He had been knocked out, kidnapped and dressed in a Halloween-whore's outfit and there was no way he was going to be harassed by a makeshift ghost. Snarling, he charged at the less-than-scary spirit, letting his own covers drop, and shoved him against the gaudy wallpapered wall. He yanked the bed sheet off to reveal a makeup-less, grinning psychopath. He fought the strong urge to force his fist through his face.

"What's the matter, Bats?" the Joker purred, tongue swiping out, "Don't you wanna play dress up with me?" His words were practically dripping in suggestion, as they always were, and the enraged playboy tightened his grip on the man's purple shirt, distaste showing on his place.

"Now why would I enjoy being bludgeoned and abducted just so you can play _'dress up'_, you twisted clown?" he spat. The Joker pouted, which looked frankly ridiculous given his permanent smile.

"Oh, come on, Brucey!" he whined, moving his glove-less hands up to Bruce's chest, tracing invisible patterns there. "Can't a guy hang out with his sweetheart on a day as glorious as_ Halloween_?" The pathetic pouting, though still dreadfully annoying, was enough to cause _some_ of Bruce's anger to dissipate and he allowed his grip on the maniac to slacken. Bruce found his face frowning further.

"You could've just asked!" he yelled, not quite as aggressively as the last time he spoke. In retaliation, the Joker merely scoffed and rolled his emerald eyes.

"Yee-ah, because you're _known_ for complying with my requests." the clown drawled, "And anyway, you'd never have agreed to wear that _de-_lightful little outfit". His voice adopted a low, purring tone as his hands moved lower so as to trace Bruce's stocking and suspender covered legs with a leering smile that had washed over his face.

Feeling rushed to where the Joker's fingers were stroking and shot up in an electric bolt to his groin as Bruce could feel his body respond. A lusty moan escaped his open mouth as the callous hands of his foe traced over a whore-red material covered bulge. As sensation began to wash through his being, Bruce had to fight to clamber his way out of the lust-haze clouding his thoughts and slammed his hands down to seize the Joker's wrists.

"Oh no you don't." he snarled. He had no time for the villain's antics, or the effects they had on his all too keen body, right now. There was a city out there that had gone unsupervised for _at least_ a few hours. "Thanks to you, I'm already insanely behind schedule." His gaze darkened in annoyance and he dropped the offending hands as he moved away from his kidnapper.

"Do you even realise just how much crime has probably happened while I was incapacitated? It's _Halloween, _Joker!" he spat venomously. The maniac regarded Bruce with an exasperated stare and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose- a habit he'd picked up from Bruce- and let out a deep, long-suffering sigh.

"Yes, and that's exactly why I can promise you, darling, hardly anything of any..._ importance_ has happened." he began, a grin absent from his face for once "No-one who's worth your time would choose tonight to make a show. It's tacky." His nose crinkled up in distaste at the idea and he began striding over to Bruce, who had plonked himself down on the less than comfy sofa.

"You wouldn't _believe_ how many idiots try to go for the cliché, though,' he giggled, running a hand through his greasy hair, "Diddles and I had to practically _bribe_ Scary not to plant a giant pumpkin filled with his magic-dope in city hall. Can't have little Johnny giving us, uh, _supervillains_ a bad name, can we?" He was grinning down at Bruce, golden-green locks hanging down in front of a penetrating jade gaze. His smile was tinted with genuine affection as he approached Bruce and sat gracefully down on the arm of the sofa. A long finger brushed an errant dark brown lock out of Bruce's eyes and moved to stroke his head. The vigilante sighed and gave into the action, turning his head in towards the familiar touch. His brain was still absolutely pounding and he wasn't about to refuse the comforting sensation of a lover's caress, no matter how pissed he might be.

The Joker's artistic hands placed themselves on Bruce's shoulders and pushed back until the man dressed as the devil was leaning back on the green sofa, allowing the devil dressed as a man to straddle him. As their limbs tangled together, the Joker leant forward until his cherry lips were ghosting Bruce's, teasingly. As he felt the Bat lean forward, seeking out the warmth of a kiss, he smiled in triumph and let his mouth slide softly over Bruce's waiting lips for a few seconds before pulling away again. The clown regarded Bruce through bright eyes and let his hand bury itself amongst chocolate locks, the twirling sensation almost lulling Bruce into slumber.

"I just want to watch a movie with you, Bats." the Joker whispered softly and Bruce didn't know whether to be annoyed that the idiot brought him here for something so inane or to not be surprised at all. It was just like the madman he called his sometimes-lover to waste his time. Huffing, Bruce turned his gaze to the dusty window and peered out at his city. If the clown was telling the truth, which was something he prided himself on doing, being a '_man of his word'_ he found more _creative_ ways of tricking people, the main villains would be abstaining from crime that evening for fear of becoming, what, _uncool?_And Bruce hadd missed most of the evening's events no thanks to the green haired man's shenanigans anyway, so if he _did_stay here, the chances were nothing horrific was going to happen in the bowls of his city. Especially since most of the major villains had been apprehended and the only other dangerous, murderous fiend was sitting pleasantly in his lap. Anyway it would keep the Joker in his supervision as well as keeping him happy, meaning there would be less chance of a random spout of chaos being unleashed upon Gotham. This thought however struck Bruce as slightly peculiar- he didn't usually concern himself with the happiness of a creature who always appeared to be so poisonously ecstatic. It must've been pulsing the headache.

Bruce moved his eyes back to meet glistening emerald ones and raised his eyebrows to project suspicion

"What kind of movie?" he asked reluctantly, distrust evident. He could actually _feel_ the glee surge through the clown's body until it swam openly in his eyes and radiated off his face. The Batman playing along for once was something to be savoured and Bruce could just tell that the psychopath's entire body was humming with the prospect of having the his Bat for a whole night. And to himself! Oh, Bruce could almost hear his elation as the clown all but bounced up and down in excitement on his lap.

"Oh Brucey, a horror movie, silly!" he giggled, throwing his lithe arms around Bruce's neck, "Unless you're _scared_ of course." His mocking laughter normally served to annoy Bruce, but he couldn't bring himself to push his crooked counterpart off of him, instead choosing to luxuriate in the clown's body heat. The warmth was comforting and soothed his aching head as he nuzzled unconsciously against the hard chest of his lover. Bruce huffed half heatedly into the material.

"Fine", a muffled sigh came, "But just one, and then I'm leaving." The Joker squealed with delight and hopped up. Bruce made an irritated whining noise as the comforting heat was removed and frowned as he watched the maniac sweep the room, gathering up his forgotten sheet costume and pulling out a DVD from seemingly no-where. He ran back over to Bruce and presented him with the film proudly.

"Drag Me To Hell?" Bruce enquired after reading the cover, squinting in the flickering light. He wasn't one for films these days, finding no time in his schedule between his work at Wayne Enterprises, his playboy lifestyle and his dusk crusade, so he'd never heard of the title of the DVD in his hands. The Joker nodded enthusiastically, taking the box back and slotting the disk into the player before launching himself back onto the knees of the pained vigilante on the sofa, remembering to bring the sheet.

"Yeeep. It's a Sam Raimi movie." He beamed, "I think you'll like it." Bruce raised an eyebrow. If the Joker was recommending a horror film, he dreaded to think just what it contained. Still, it couldn't been nearly as bad as any of the horrors he'd seen the man himself commit, so he let the maniac settle against him as the film started. Distantly, he could hear the Joker blabber on about the past atrocities of Raimi, mainly those 'awful superhero movies' about the 'guy in a spider costume', but how he'd definitely made up for it with this 'gold mine'. Bruce allowed a lazy, amused smile to grace his normally stern face in amazement. Other than himself and explosions, he'd never seen the Joker get so excited over anything before. It made Bruce feel a kind of vague comfort. He'd never have guessed that the insane mass murdering psychopath had other interests; it made him seem more _human,_in a way. Which made the whole 'cuddling _and watching a film together'_ thing a lot easier to process. This was certainly a first. They didn't _hang out_. They either fucked or the fought- there was no in between. Until now.

As the Joker's monologue on horror film history died down and the film started, the criminal let his head fall onto Bruce's shoulder, green-blond curls forming an emerald pillow. Bruce was struck with how ridiculous they must look. A grumpy, irritable devil and a scarred, ecstatic ghost, wrapped up in each others limbs as they watched a black comedy-horror on a tiny screen in a dingy room. Part of him was chilled, another amused and somewhere he was just simply _at ease_. The film skipped a bit, jutting ahead and Joker just remarked that they'd only missed the boring bits and as a grotesque, crone-like old woman attacked a girl in a car, Bruce caught himself kissing the Joker's curls, almost lovingly. The clown must've noticed the unusual action as well, as he tilted his head up to look up at vigilante, a creepily blissful expression on his face. Bruce leant downwards, capturing plump, velvet lips with his own, drinking in all the soft purrs and hums the maniac made in retaliation.

Swallowing any anger or doubt that was lurking inside, he just let the feeling take him over. His stomach was shifting and his form tingling with sensation as screams and screeches filled the air. Pulling away, his thumb brushed across the Joker's chin and onto his scarred, makeup-less cheek. The Joker grinned up at him, not maniacally or sinisterly, just a genuine smile and placed a sweet kiss on Bruce's nose, before turning back to the movie and laughing hysterically as the old hag bit the younger woman's chin. Bruce looked upon the display and found a soft smirk flickering on his face. The clown was always funniest when he didn't realise he was being watched, and his show of appreciation towards a movie tickled something inside of Bruce. Moving his gaze back to the small television set, he couldn't stop a small chuckle from erupting from his throat as they watched the extravagant display of non-stop violence and horror spread across the screen. Letting his muscles relax and his body melt into the other, he decided that this might just be a good film after all. It would be nice to relax like Alfred was always yelling at him to for once, to just bask in the presence of the man who often shared his bed devoid of bomb threats or aggressive sex. Resting his head against his lover's, he gripped the white bedsheets that were wrapped around the smaller man and pulled the clown tighter into his body and sighed into his hair, feeling the laughter that shook the madman reverberate into his own body. The Joker seemed languid and agreeable for once, and the way he was curled in his arms just felt so comfortable. Bruce couldn't help the satisfied smile that washed over his chiseled features despite the horrid outfit and the bump on his head. He reasoned it was pretty much worth it.

Okay, so maybe Halloween wasn't _that_ bad...

***

**A/N: Remember guys, this is an _established relationship _fic. I'm not going into detail about why they're together on this one. Check out my other stories for that kind of fic, but this one goes off the premise that they've been shagging each other silly for a while. :p Just go with it! XD Please review- it keeps me writing.**


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